Kaisers 
Epitaph, 

Would  make 
Wee  ping  willow 


O  L. 


E   R 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


THE  LAUGHING  WILLOW 
OLIVER  HERFORD 


THE 

LAUGHING  WILLOW 

VERSES   AND    PICTURES 

BY 

OLIVER  HERFORD 

Author  of  "Artful  Antics,"  "The  Child's  Primer  of  Natural 

History,"  "Overheard  in  a  Garden,"  "Fairy  Godmother- 

in-Law,"  "Astonishing  Tale  of  a  Pen  and  Ink 

Puppet,"  "The  Confessions  of  a 

Caricaturist,"  etc.!  I; 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO  PEG 

Oh,  should  some  power  the  giftie  gie  her 
To  see  herseF  as  ithers  see  her, 
I'm  thinking  Peg  would  grow  sae  vain 
Hid  take  the  giftie  back  again. 


962175 


CONTENTS 
THE  LAUGHING  WILLOW 

PAGE 

EPITAPHS       .     ; 9 

THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  RUSSIA n 

THE  WEDDING  FEAST n 

A  MUJIK .........  12 

THE  COSSACK 13 

THE  THREE  S's     . 14 

THE  AIR  RAID 15 

VALE  DIABOLE 18 

THE  WRONG  FLOOR 21 

MARCHING  TO  BERLIN 23 

TARGET  PRACTICE 26 

THE  SAUSAGE  BALLOON 27 

CONCERNING  THE  CROWN  PRINCE 28 

CAMOUFLAGE       .     -. 31 

THE  TANK 32 

THE  BIRD-MAN  .     .     .     ,     .•   «     .     .     .     .     .  33 

FRENZYLOGICAL  CHART 34 

BRITANNIA  SALVATRIX  ....     .V  ....  35 

FATHER  WILH ELM     ..........  37 

THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS  .  40 

AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE 45 

THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM 52 

WAR  RELIEF  .     * \- 57 

SUMMER  MASS     . 58 

vii 


Contents 


ABOUT  PEOPLE   I  HAVE  MET  PAGE 

J.  M.  BARRIE 61 

THE  HORSE    .     .     .     ......     .     .     .  63 

THE  TOWN  CAT  ...... 65 

TOWSER 68 

THE  OYSTER  . 70 

THE  MOUSE  .     .     .   '. 71 

PEOPLE  I  HAVE  NOT  MET 

THE  TURTLE  ....     .     .     ...     .     .     .  77 

MICHAEL  O'LEARY 79 

CLORINDA      . 82 

ALCIBIADES  J.  SKINNER      .     .     .     •.     .  ' .     .     .  85 

EVE     ........     \     .....  90 

THE  HIGH  BROW  HEN   .     .     .     .    •.     .     .     .     .  91 

SIR  IPPYKIN  .     .     .     .     .    x  "••     .....  92 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  COP 95 

PHYLLIS  LEE       ...     .     .     .     .     .     .*  .     .  97 

MRS.  SEYMOUR  FENTOLIN 99 

THE  DEVIL  AMONG  THE  LADIES     .     .     .     .     .     .  101 

SPRING      .     .     ....     .     .    ;.     .     .     .     .  105 

THE  CATFISH       .     .     .     .    ,<     .v  .     ...     •  108 

THE  PRODIGAL  CENTIPEDE       .......  109 

A  BALLADE  OF  BLACK  SOCKS    .     .     .     .  ^  .     . "   .  in 

OTHER  PEOPLE  INCLUDING  MARK  TWAIN 

THE  GENTLEMEN  OF  LETTERS  .     .     ...     .     .  115 

THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASS 118 

MARK  TWAIN •   ...  121 

PRINCE  POMPOM 124 

THE  SERIAL 126 

THE  CLOUD    .     .     -.     .     .     .     .     .     ...     .  130 

viii 


THE  LAUGHING  WILLOW 


To  see  the  Kaiser's  epitaph 

Would  make  a  weeping  willow  laugh. 


THE  LAUGHING  WILLOW 
EPITAPHS 


ERE  lies  Willy's  mortal  'day .    .;»,>,;••  • 
In  its  Mother  Earth's  -  ojVe'sttes.- '  V'%  : 


HERE 


Willy's  soul  has  flown  away— 
Where  it  is  you  have  two  guesses. 

^ere  He*  mil 

Here  lies  Bill,  the  son  of  Fred. 
He  lied  alive;  he  now  lies  dead. 

®ear*,  Kble  ®ear* 

Oh,  stranger,  dry  the  starting  tear  ! 
Kaiser  Bill  is  buried  here. 


'Neath  this  stone  lies  Kaiser  Bill. 
He  sought  for  peace  —  he  seeks  it  still. 

[9] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


Here  Wilhelm  sleeps.     For  Mercy's  sake, 
Tread  softly,  friend,  lest  he  should  wake ! 

gfefte*  to  arfjes 

Swallow  him,  O  Earth,  for  he, 
Did  his  best  to  swallow  thee. 


[10] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  RUSSIA 


THE  WEDDING  FEAST 

THIS  is  a  Russian  Wedding  Feast; 
Counting  the  Groom,  there  are  at  least 
A  hundred  sitting  down  to  dine, 
Or  let  us  call  it  ninety-nine: 
For  more  than  that  there  is  no  room, 
And  no  one  ever  counts  the  Groom! 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  RUSSIA—  [Continued] 
A  MUJIK 

The  Muj  ik  wears  a  costume  weird 

Consisting  of  a  fuzzy  beard, 

A  sheep-skin  blouse  (the  wool  inside) 

And  breeks  astonishingly  widev 

Made  from  the  fur  of  North  sea  Whales, 

And  Yak-hide  boots  with  big  brass  nails. 


[12] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  RUSSIA—  [Continued} 


THE  COSSACK 

The  Cossack  is  so  much  at  home 
Upon  his  horse,  that  though  he  roam 
From  Vladivostok  to  Odessa, 
His  wife  has  only  to  address  a 
Letter  to  Ivan  "care  his  Horse" 
To  catch  her  Spouse,  unless  of  course, 
As  sometimes  happens,  Ivan  may 
Have  swapped  addresses  on  the  way. 

[13] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  RUSSIA—  [Continued] 
THE  THREE  S'S 

Without  a  doubt  the  Samovar 
The  Sfeppes  and  Russian  Sables  are 
Of  all  things  Russian  the  best  known; 
So  in  this  picture  I  have  shown 


A  Sable  sitting  on  a  flight 
Of  Russian  Steppes,  before  a  bright 
New  Samovar,  calm  as  can  be, 
Brewing  a  cup  of  Russian  Tea. 

[14] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  AIR  RAID 


COME  into  the  cellar,  Maud. 

Get  a  move  on!     Goodness  gracious, 

There  is  nothing  to  applaud 

In  bravado  ostentatious ! 

Still  Maud  lingered,  all  unheeding, 

As  the  Siren  sounded  twice; 

Above  the  din  her  voice  came  pleading, 

"Are  you  sure  there's  no  mice?" 

ii 

Above  the  pandemonium 
Of  Siren  shrill  and  warning  Drum 
And  Aircraft  Gun  is  heard  the  roar 
Of  little  Freddy,  setat  four; 

[15] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  AIR  RAID—  [Continued] 

The  cellar  dark  and  dank  and  dim 

No  fascination  has  for  him, 

The   little   darling  wants   to  be 

Upstairs  upon  the  roof  and  see 

The  "fireworks!"     "If  you  ask  me—" 

Aunt  Kate  was  overheard  to  say, 

"I'd  let  the  dear  child  have  his  way!" 

in 

A  hidden  Crime,  however  slight, 
Is  sure  some  day  to  see  the  light; 
Oh,  why  did  Auntie  come  to  stay 
With  us  upon  an  Air-raid  day! 
Why  did  we  never  think  to  tell  her 
That  there  were  Lizards  in  the  cellar 
Or  Spiders  or  an  Open  Drain! 
How  shall  we  ever  now  explain 
That  "Antique  Vase"  we  said  was  lost, 
That  Nile  green  horror,  gold  embossed, 
Her  Wedding  Present — there  it  lay 
Before  her  eyes,  as  plain  as  day! 
We  almost  wished  a  bomb  would  fall 
Upon  the  house  and  end  it  all! 

IV 

Who  is  that  cowardly  Jack  Homer 
Crouching  there  in  the  darkest  corner, 

[16] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  AIR  RAID—  [Continued] 

Behind  the  furnace?    Look  again, 

That  is  no  cringing  coward,  when 

Your  eyes  become  accustomed  to 

The  darkness  of  the  cellar,  you 

Will  see  it  is  no  other  than 

Philander  Jones  and  Marian; 

Make  no  mistake,  Philander's  dread 

Is  not  a  Zeppelin  overhead, 

But  that  rude  moment  when  he'll  hear 

The  beastly  Siren  sound  "All's  clear!" 


"Where  is  Molly?'     Like  a  Shell, 

Short  and  sharp,  the  question  fell, 

Scattering  every  one  pell  mell 

From  the  cellar's  safe  retreat 

Through  the  house  on  panic  feet, 

Basement,  Attic — everywhere 

They  sought,  one  hope  remained  and  there 

On  the  Drying-roof  they  found  her, 

Shrapnel  flashing  all  around  her, 

Calm  and  cool  'mid  war's  alarms, 

Hugging  something  in  her  arms. 

'Ts  all  right — don't  cwy!"  said  Molly, 

"I  tame  back  to  det  my  dolly!" 

[17] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


VALE  DIABOLE 


AT  a  recent  church  conference  it  was  decided  to  drop  the 
Devil  from  the  ritual. 


WELL  !  Well !  so  you've  been  fired, 
You've  lost  your  job  at  last. 

It's  high  time  you  retired, 
Old  Boy,  you're  failing  fast. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


VALE  DIABOLE—  [Continued] 

You're  getting  old,  you  know  it, 

You  are  not  in  the  race. 
Admit  you  cannot  go  it, 

The  killing,  modern  pace. 

Your  methods  are  too  dull  for 
The  modern  school  of  Hate, 

Your  lake  of  burning  sulphur 
Is  sadly  out  of  date. 

The  Hohenzollern's  Kultur 

Mocks  at  your  fiery  pits, 
His  double-headed  vulture 

Has  put  yours  on  the  fritz. 

Beside  the  fierce,  blaspheming, 

Mail-fisted  Kaiser  Bill, 
You  are  a  seraph  beaming, 

An  angel  of  good-will. 

But  tho'  we  can't  deny,  sir, 
You're  hopelessly  outclassed, 

You've  one  thing  on  the  Kaiser, 
Which  is,  tho'  first  and  last 

t'9] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


VALE  DIABOLE—  [Continued] 


A  failure  as  a  devil, 

Yet  boast  of  this  you  can; 
You  were  always  on  the  level- 

And — you  are  a  gentleman 


[20] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  WRONG  FLOOR 


A  CERTAIN  Emperor 

(This  is  a  censored  tale) 

Once  pounded  on  the  door 
Of  heaven  with  fist  of  mail. 


Cried  Peter  from  within, 
Awakened  by  the  row, 

"Stop  that  infernal  din! 
Who  are  you,  anyhow*?" 


[21] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  WRONG  FLOOR— [Continued] 

"Don't  bandy  words  with  me !" 

Thundered  the  visitor. 
"All  doors  to  me  are  free. 

I  am  the  Emperor." 

"If  you're  an  Emperor," 
Said  Peter,  "then  I  fear 

You've  come  to  the  wrong  floor. 
We  take  no  Emperors  here. 

"Our  waiting  list  is  filled 
With  martyrs  brave  and  true 

Whose  blood  an  Emperor  spilled. 
There  is  no  room  for  you." 

Cowed  by  Saint  Peter's  look, 
The  Emperor,  with  a  frown, 

Cried,  "Well,  I'm  damned!"  and  took 
The  elevator — down. 


[22] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARCHING  TO  BERLIN 

WE  come  from  God's  own  country  in  the  ships  of 

Uncle  Sam; 
We're    going    to    get    the    william-goat    of   Kaiser 

Will— i— am; 

We  know   it  is   verboten,  but   we   do  not  give   a 
damn, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin! 

Berlin!    Berlin!    Berlin! 
As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 


Refrain 

Hurray!    Hurray!    We'll    wave    the    Stripes    and 

Stars ! 

Away,  away  with  Emperors  and  Czars ! 
And  when  we  get  the  Kaiser  we'll  put  him  behind 
the  bars, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin!  etc. 

[23] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARCHING  TO  BERLIN—  [Continued] 

We're  from  the  dear  old  U.  S.  A.,   the  Land  of 

Liberty; 
We've  crossed  a  hundred  rivers  and  three  thousand 

miles  of  sea 
To  teach  the  Huns  a  thing  or  two  about  Democracy, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin!  etc. 


Refrain 

Hurray!  Hurray!  We'll  show  the  Prussian  swine 
That  Freedom  is  the  only  Right  Divine, 
And  when  we  catch  old  Kaiser  Bill  we'll  pitch  him 
in  the  Rhine, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin!  etc. 

We've  left  our  happy  homes  that  we  may  help  to 

win  the  war. 
We're  a  million  strong  already,  and  there'll  soon  be 

millions  more; 
And  when  the  job  is  done  with  Kaiser  Bill  we'll 

mop  the  floor, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin!  etc. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARCHING  TO  BERLIN—  [Continued] 

Refrain 

Hurray  !  Hurray !  We're  going  to  make  it  hot 
For  all  the  bloody  Hohenzollern  lot, 
And  when  we  get  the  Kaiser  we'll  present  him  to 
his  Gott, 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin ! 
(Drums)  Berlin!  Berlin! 

Berlin!  Berlin!  Berlin! 

As  we  go  marching  to  Berlin! 


[25] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


TARGET  PRACTICE 


AT  the  Imperial  schiitzenfest 
Fritz  Pickelheim  led  all  the  rest; 


At  target  practice  Pickelheim 
Could  hit  the  Red  Cross  every  time; 

At  the  clay-baby  contest  Fritz 
Scored  nineteen  out  of  twenty  hits; 


And  once  he  won  the  Kaiser's  purse 
With  nine  live  babies  and  a  nurse. 

[26] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  SAUSAGE  BALLOON 

I  OFTEN  wonder,  when  we  fry 
A  Sausage,  if  its  thoughts  can  fly 


Across  the  billowy  ocean  wave 

To  where  its  namesake  stern  and  brave 

Floats  like  a  Guardian  Angel,  high 

Above  our  armies,  in  the  sky, 

Serene  and  stately  as  a  cloud. 

No  wonder  Sausages  are  proud ! 

No  wonder  Sausages  when  fried 

Oft-times  swell  up  and  burst  with  pride ! 

[27] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CONCERNING  THE  CROWN  PRINCE 


WHEN  Crown  Prince  Willy  goes  to  bed 
It  is  his  wont  to  lay  his  head 
Upon  the  pillow  and  extend 
His  feet  towards  the  other  end. 
"But  does  he  really  wear  his  hat 
In  bed?"  you  ask — well,  as  to  that 
I  cannot  say,  I  never  saw  him, 
But  that's  the  way  /  always  draw  him. 

II 

The  thing  that  Germans  most  admire 
Is  Crownie's  coolness  under  fire. 

[28] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CONCERNING  THE  CROWN  PRINCE—  [Continued] 

He  loves  to  watch  it  gleam  and  glow 
'Mid  fragrant  smoke,  an  inch  or  so 
Above  his  nose  as  he  reclines 
In  some  Chateau  behind  the  lines; 
If  the  Crown  Prince  had  his  desire 
He  would  be  always  under  fire! 

in 

When  you  or  I  get  up  at  eight 
We  do  not  have  to  cogitate 
And  rack  our  brains  concerning  just 
Which  suit  to  wear,  as  Princes  must; 
The  Crown  Prince  has  a  hundred  suits, 
Including  hats  and  belts  and  boots, 
Yet  such  his  master-mind,  he  knows 
Which  he  must  wear  and  just  what  goes 
With  what,  which  chevron,  sash  or  sword, 
Each  in  his  Royal  Head  is  stored, 
Down  to  the  detail  of  a  spur, 
All  in  a  Nut-shell,  as  it  were! 

IV 

Here  is  a  most  uncensored  sight! 
The  Prince,  in  garb  Pre-Adamite 
Taking  (but  tell  it  not  in  Gath) 
A  good  old  English  shower-bath! 

[29] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CONCERNING  THE  CROWN  PRINCE—  [Continued] 


The  Prince's  shy  and  shrinking  habit 

Has  earned  for  him  the  nickname  "Rabbit." 

This  irritates  His  Highness  more 

Than  all  his  country's  grief  and  gore, 

It  hurts  his  amour  propre,  for  it's 

A  clear  case  of  the  "Cap  that  fits." 

But  don't  you  think,  however  funny, 

It's  rather  rough  upon  the  Bunny? 


[30] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CAMOUFLAGE 

IF  you  can  stand  upon  one  spot 
And  look  like  something  you  are  not 
And  wouldn't  if  you  could  be — say 
A  Bean-bag  or  a  Bale  of  Hay— 
You'll  find  it  quite  a  useful  stunt 
To  practise  on  the  Western  Front ; 
This  picture  shows  how  Private  Dunne,. 
Disguised  as  snow,  deceived  the  Hun, 
Who  could  not  possibly  see  through 
The  Camouflage :  no  more  can  you ! 

[31] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TANK 

THE  Tank's  a  kind  of  cross  between 

An  Agricultural  Machine 

And  something  fierce  and  Pliocene; 

Over  embankments,  trees,  and  walls, 

Trenches,  barbed-wire,  and  forts  it  crawls; 

Nothing  can  stay  its  course — the  Tank 

Has  not  the  least  respect  for  Rank 

Or  File;  with  equal  joy  it  squashes 

All  things  alike,  men,  beasts,  and — Boches, 


[32] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  BIRD-MAN 


THE  Bird-man  does  not  chirp  and  sing 
As  Larks  and  Robins  do  in  Spring, 
He  does  not  moult  nor  does  he  feed 
On  Earthworms  or  Canary-seed, 


Nor  does  the  Bird-man  build  a  nest 
In  which  his  weary  wings  to  rest; 
At  night,  instead,  when  he  goes  home 
To  roost,  he  seeks  an  Aerodrome. 


[33] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


FRENZYLOGICAL  CHART 


1.  Humanity. 

2.  Veneration. 

3.  Love  of  Nature. 

4.  Modesty. 

5.  Imagination. 


6.  Generosity. 

7.  Compassion, 

8.  Sympathy. 

9.  Chivalry. 

10.  Integrity. 


11.  Love  of  Children. 


[34] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


BRITANNIA  SALVATRIX 

MISTRESS  of  the  Trident  dread, 
With  the  brow  of  Artemis, 
Like  Minerva,  helmeted, 
Seven  Seas  her  sandals  kiss. 


[35] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


BRITANNIA  SALVATRIX—  [Continued] 

Throbs  a  mighty  heart  withal 
Beneath  her  armour  of  Disdain. 
Not  for  naught  did  Belgium  call, 
Servia  has  not  cried  in  vain. 

When  the  gauge  of  Hate  was  hurled, 
Seven  seas  at  her  behest, 
From  the  corners  of  the  world 
Brought  the  bravest  and  the  best. 

From  the  utmost  ends  of  earth, 
On  their  tireless  waves  they  bore, 
To  the  Europe  of  their  birth, 
Legions  of  the  land  and  air, 

Spurning  Peace,  till  Peace  has  brought 
Hohenzollern  to  his  fall, 
And  with  the  blood  of  Freemen  bought 
A  Place  in  Freedom's  Sun  for  all. 


[36] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


FATHER  WILHELM 
To  the  Tune  of  Lewis  Carroll 


"You  are  old,  Father  Wilhelm,"  the  Crown  Prince 

said, 

"And  the  hair's  growing  thin  on  your  pate; 
Do  you  think  you  are  perfectly  right  in  your  head — 
The  way  you've  been  acting  of  late4?" 

[37] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


FATHER  WILHELM—  [Continued] 

"In  my  youth,"  Father  Wilhelm  replied  to  his  son, 
"I  hated  my  honour  to  stain 
But,  now  that  I'm  perfectly  sure  I  have  none, 
Why,  I  do  it  again  and  again." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  Prince,  "and  you're  getting 

quite  bent,. 

And  rheumatic,  yet  only  just  now, 
You  turned  a  back  somersault  into  your  tent — 
Pray  why  did  you  do  it,  and  how?" 

"In   my   youth,"   Kaiser   Wilhelm   replied    to   the 

Prince, 

"I  kept  all  my  muscles  in  training; 
And  I've  practised  one  thing  that  I  learned,  ever 

since — 
And  that's  to  go  in  when  it's  raining." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  Prince,   "and  your  head 

is  too  light 

For  anything  stronger  than  water ; 
Yet  you   talk  without  ceasing  from  morning  till 

night; 
Do  you  think,  at  your  age,  that  you  oughter?" 

"In  my  youth,"  said  the  Kaiser,  "I  lived  upon  raw 
Spanish  onions,  I  ate  with  my  knife; 

[38] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


FATHER  WILHELM—  [Continued] 

And  the  strength  that  those  onions  gave  to  my  jaw 
Has  lasted  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"You  are  old,"  said  the  Kronprins,  "and  one  would 

suppose, 

You  would  be  just  a  little  more  humble; 
Yet  you  balance  your  crown  on  the  end  of  your  nose. 
Aren't  you  frightened  some  day  it  will  tumble?" 


"Your  questions,  my  boy,  are  getting  too  free,3 
The  Kaiser  with  anger  protested — 
"Your  impudence  borders  on  Lese  Majesfee; 
Be  off,  or  Pll  have  you  arrested." 

[39] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS 

To  the  Tune  of  W.  8.  Gilbert 


MAJOR   FRITZ  -  SCHINKENWURST    HOFBRAU    VON 

BEERS 

Was  the  pride  and  the  joy  of  the  Pruss  Grenadiers. 
You've  guessed  him  a  Prussian,  shrewd  reader,  at 

sight, 
And  a  glance  at  his  manners  will  prove  you  are  right. 


In  his  fervour  for  "Frightfulness"  Major  Von  Beers 
Acknowledged  no  betters  and  precious  few  peers. 

[40] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS— 

[Continued} 

And  every  one  envied  his  well-earned  repute 
For  arson  and  pillage  and  rapine  and  loot. 


No  symphony  held  such  delectable  tones 

For  the  ears  of  Von  Beers  as  the  shrieks  and  the 

groans 

Of  women  and  children  bombarded  with  shell, 
Or  the  crash  of  a  hospital  tumbling  pell-mell. 


One  day  from  Berlin  came  the  order  "Refrain 
For  the  present  from  Frightfulness.     Start  Press 

Campaign. 

Von  Bernstorff  has  wired  we're  getting  in  wrong 
With  the  Yankees,  so  play  up  HUMANITY  strong." 


Loud,  loud  were  the  wailings  of  Hofbrau  Von  Beers. 

But  duty  is  duty,  so  drying  his  tears, 

He  purchased  a  volume  by  Peter  F.  Dunne 

On  "How  to  be  Civilised,  though  you're  a  Hun." 

[41] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS 

[Continued} 

He  swatted  up  Honour,  and  Peace  and  Good-will 
For  a  year  seven  months  and  a  fortnight  until, 
You'll  scarcely  believe  it,  that  Hun  I  declare 
Accmired  a  sort  of  a  civilised  air. 


It  was  balky,  spasmodic  and  apt  to  take  flight 
When  a  press  correspondent  was  nowhere  in  sight. 
It  was  clumsy,  uncertain  and  crude,  I'm  aware, 
Yet  distinctly  suggested  a  civilised  air. 


He  started  at  once  a  colossal  campaign 
And  filled  correspondents  with  fibs  and  champagne, 
And  the  press  correspondents  all  voted  Von  Beers 
A  prince  of  good  fellows,  'mid  deafening  cheers. 


Thenceforth  when  a  soldier  forgot  to  salute, 
Von  Beers  would  use  kindness  instead  of  his  boot. 
And  he  lectured  a  laggard  he'd  rather  have  shot, 
If  a  newspaper  man  chanced  to  be  on  the  spot. 

[42] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS 

[Continued] 


If  a  sentinel,  smoking,  he  happened  to  catch, 
Instead  of  a  hiding  he  gave  him  a  match. 
A  caress  took  the  place  of  a  clout  on  the  ear, 
That  is,  when  a  war  correspondent  was  near. 


He  distributed  photos  of  Godfearing  Huns 
Feeding  babies  with  Beef  Broth,  Bananas  and  Buns, 
And  snapshots  of  Willie  that  caught  his  gay  glance 
And  others  depicting  him  weeping  for  France. 

[43] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOUCHING  BALLAD  OF  GENERAL  VON  BEERS— 
[Continued] 

The  fame  of  Von  Hofbrau  spread  over  the  land, 
And  rich  Lady  nurses  proposed  for  his  hand, 


And  the  Kaiser,  All  Highest,  'mid  deafening  tears 
Pinned  a  cast-iron  Halo  on  Major  Von  Beers. 


[44] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE 
A  SniMe  in  One  Act 


CHARACTERS 

The  GERMAN  EMPEROR  .  .  . 

Others  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  cast. 


SCENE 


A   luxurious   dressing   room   adjoining   the   Em- 
peror's Bedroom. 

TIME 

This  morning.  The  Emperor  is  discovered  standing 
before  a  Cheval  Glass.  He  is  dressed  in  what  is 
known  as  "Athletic  Underwear"  with  plain  black 
socks,  upheld  by  Boston  Garters. 

EMPEROR:  It  is  not  often  that  one  sees 
An  Emperor  in  B.  V.  D.'s. 

A  knock  is  heard  on  the  door. 

EMPEROR:  Herein! 

A  high  officer  enters  with  a  telegram. 
A  wire? 

[45] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE—  [Continued] 


OFFICER:  Yes,  Sire,  a  wire! 

EMPEROR:  Tears  open  envelope. 

You  may  retire. 
Reads 

Von  Hindenburg  has  wired  to  say 

Our  noble  troops  have  won  the  day 

Captured  a  Russian  Samovar 

And  several  tons  of  caviar 

Vodka  a  fabulous  amount 

And  Droskys  more  than  we  can  count 

The  greatest  battle  of  the  war, 

[46] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE—  [Continued] 

Won  by  the  Fourteenth  Army  Corps 
All  honour  to  the  Lord  therefore, 
Likewise  the  Fourteenth  Armv  Corps. 

CHORUS  OF  OFFICERS: 

All  honour  to  the  Lord  therefore, 

Not  to  speak  of  the  Fourteenth  Army  Corps. 

EMPEROR: 

The  Lord  Be  Praised !     This  cheering  news 
Will  cure  my  cold  and  banish  my  blues. 
I  haven't  felt  anything  like  so  well 
Since  my  gallant  Navy  with  shot  and  shell 
Bombarded  the  Scarborough  Infant  School 
And  the  Orphan  Asylum  at  Hartlepool. 

CHORUS  OF  OFFICERS: 

He  hasn't  felt  anything  like  so  well 
Since  the  Babes  were  bombarded  with  shot 
and  shell. 


[47] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE— [Continued] 

EMPEROR: 

Enough !  Enough !  Less  cheering  please 
With  my  nervous  system  it  disagrees. 
Alas!     My  joy 
Is  not  without  alloy. 

Looks  at  telegram  sadly. 

Oh  wretched  me !     On  this  glorious  day 
When  I  should  have  been  in  the  thick  of  the 

fray 

I   lay  in  bed 
With  a  cold  in  my  head: 
Hot  water  bottles,  Quinine  and  Squills 
Mustard  Plasters,  and  Camphor  Pills. 
And  when  they  tell  of  this  victory 
They  do  not  so  much  as  mention  ME! 
While  peans  of  praise  and  plaudits  pour 
On   the   Lord — and   the    Fourteenth   Army 
Corps ! 

Weeps. 

Enter  chorus  of  Highborn  Lady  Nurses  bearing  clin- 
ical thermometers. 

FIRST  NURSE  : 

Oh  Sire  we  entreat! 

SECOND  NURSE: 

This  is  most  indiscreet! 

[48] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE—  [Continued] 

THIRD  NURSE: 

A  temperature  we  dread — 
FOURTH  NURSE  : 

Oh  please  go  back  to  bed — 
FIRST  NURSE: 

Please  do  as  you  are  told, 

You  have  an  awful  cold. 
EMPEROR:  Furious. 

A  cold!! 
NURSE: 

I  meant  to  say 

Broncho-Pneumonia. 
EMPEROR: 

Mine  was  no  common  plebeian  ill, 

'Twas  a  Pneumo-Psycho-Bronchial  chill 

According  to  my  medical  adviser 

I  caught  it  when  I  walked  upon  the  Yser. 
NURSE: 

You  walked! 
EMPEROR: 

I  should  have  said  I  tried — 

You  see  it  was  high  tide 

And  I  was  much  annoyed 

To  find  the  bridge  destroyed. 

But  never  at  a  loss 

I  tried  to  walk  across. 

[49] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AN  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE—  [Continued] 

Angrily 

But  by  the  Eternal  One 

I  swear  it  can't  be  done 

And  never  was — 

Stops  suddenly  and  makes  as  if  about  to  sneeze. 
Nurses  regard  him  apprehensively. 
Emperor  sneezes. 
FIRST  NURSE: 

Ach !  Himmel !  what  a  sneeze ! 
SECOND  NURSE: 

Oh  Sire !    Please  !- 
THIRD  NURSE: 

Oh  please! 
FOURTH  NURSE: 

Your  cold's  gone  to  your  head! 
ALL  TOGETHER: 

You  MUST  go  back  to  bed ! 

They  seize  the  Emperor  and  pull  him,  struggling, 
through  the  door  leading  to  the  bedroom. 


EMPEROR: 

Nein !  Nein !  Unhand  me,  wenches ! 
My  place  is  in  the  trenches. 
Enter  High  Officer. 
[50] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


AX  IMPERIAL  SNEEZE—  [Continued] 

HIGH  OFFICER:  Looks  about  him  cautiously. 
'Tis  an  ill  wind  they  say 
That  profits  nobody, 
And  this  Imperial  sneeze 
May  bring  us  victories, 
With  Him  in  bed  there'll  be 
Some  chance  for  strategy. 
If  on  the  other  hand— 

EMPEROR:  Heard  of  stage 

What  ho!     My  horse! 

The  Emperor  enters 
HIGH  OFFICER:  Anxiously 

You  go? 
EMPEROR:  Haughtily 

Of  course! 

/   . 

CURTAIN 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM 

Surnamed  the  Tentbreaker 


AH,  Franz !   Could  you  and  I  with  Gott  conspire 
To  grab  this  sorry  little  globe  entire, 

Would  we  not  shatter  it  to  bits,  and  then 
Remould  it  nearer  to  our  heart's  desire^ 


ii 

You  all  know  how,  the  world  to  overwhelm 
I  made  a  second  Sparta  of  my  realm 

And  "dropped  the  Pilot"  from  my  ship  of  State 
To  lay  my  own  mailed  fist  upon  the  helm. 

[52] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM— [Continued] 

III 

AND  how  myself  did  eagerly  frequent 
Councils  of  war  and  heard  great  argument 

About  it  and  about,  and  every  year 
Came  out  with  great  and  greater  armament. 

IV 

For  though  in  ME  and  MINE  I  set  great  store 
And  THEE  and  THINE  are  terms  that  I  abhor, 

Of  all  that  one  should  care  to  fathom,  I 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but — war. 


Bernhardi,  Nietzsche,  Treitschke,  who  discussed 
Of  the  "Next  War,"  so  wisely,  they  are  thrust 

Like  foolish  prophets  forth,  their  words  to  scorn 
Are  scattered  and  their  mouths  are  stopped  with 
dust. 

VI 

With  them  the  seed  of  warfare  did  I  sow, 
And  with  mine  own  hand  wrought  to  make  it 
grow. 

[53] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM—  [Continued] 

And  this  is  all  the  Harvest  I  have  reaped: 
"I  came  like  thunder — and  like  wind  I  go!" 


VII 


And  lately  from  Hell's  Cavern  Door  rose  up 
A  shape  Titanic,  ravening  to  sup 

On  Living  Human  Fodder,  and  he  bade 
Me  give  him  taste  of  it ;  and  'twas — The  Krupp. 


VIII 


The  Krupp  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 
The  plans  of  modem  Strategists  confute 

The  steel  iconoclast  that  in  a  trice 
The  strongest  Fortress  into  Dust  transmute. 


IX 


The  Krupp  no  question  makes  of  Aye  and  No, 
But  strikes  alike  Cathedral  or  Chateau 

And  I  who  send  it  out  into  the  Field— 
I  know  about  it  all — I  know — I  know! 


And  much  as  War  has  made  an  infidel 
Of  me,  and  robbed  me  of  my  honour,  well 

[54] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM—  [Continued] 

I  often  wonder  what  the  Devil  has 
One  half  so  devilish  as  I — In  Hell! 


XI 

Ah,  but  my  innovations  people  say 
Placed  war  upon  a  sounder  basis'?    Nay, 

'Twas  only  striking  from  War's  lexicon 
The  terms  TRUTH,  HONOUR,  DECENCY,  FAIR  PLAY. 

XII 

The  Treaties  that  I  set  my  seal  upon 
Are  turned  to  dust  and  ashes,  which  anon 

Like  snowflakes  falling  in  a  muddy  street 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two  are  gone. 

XIII 

What  if  my  sword  can  fling  the  Sheath  aside 
And  naked  plunge  into  the  crimson  tide, 

Were't  not  a  shame,  were't  not  a  shame  for  me, 
By  a  "mere  scrap  of  paper"  to  abide? 

XIV 

Indeed,  indeed,  continually  I  swore 

For  Peace — but  was  I  solemn  when  I  swore? 

[55] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  BILLI  KAISAM—  [Continued] 

And  then — then  came  the  Day  and  sword  in 

hand 
My  threadbare  piety  apieces  tore. 


xv 

From  Europe's  centre,  through  the  Belgian  gate 
I  rode  and  at  the  Door  of  Paris  sate. 

And  many  a  city  ravished  by  the  road, 
But  Paris — she  is  still  immaculate. 

XVI 

Here  was  the  Gate  to  which  I  found  no  key; 
Here  was  the  Wall  o'er  which  I  might  not  see. 

Some  little  talk  awhile  of  strategy 
There  was,  and  then — good  afternoon,  Paree! 


[56] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


WAR  RELIEF 


"CAN  you  spare  a  Threepenny  bit, 

Dear  Miss  Turkey,"  said  Sir  Mouse, 

"For  Job's  Turkey's  benefit  ? 

I've  engaged  the  Opera  House !" 

"Alas !  I've  naught  to  spare !" 

Said  Miss  Turkey,  "save  advice, 
I  am  getting  up  a  Fair, 
To  relieve  the  Poor  Church  Mice." 

[57] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SUMMER    MASS 

IN  the  cloisters  of  the  grass, 
Lit  by  buttercups  and  daisies, 
Celebrants  of  summer  mass, 
Little  creatures  sing  their  praises. 
From  a  myriad  throbbing  throats 
Rises  up  their  song  of  Love, 
Like  a  mist  of  golden  motes, 
To  the  Golden  Throne  above. 
And  the  good  Lord,  bending  nigh, 
Quite  forgets  his  house  of  stone 
Where  the  frightened  sinners  cry, 
And  the  frowning  priests  intone, 
And  the  saints  (if  saints  they  be) 
Smile  and  smile  in  effigy. 


[58] 


ABOUT  PEOPLE  I  HAVE  MET 


ABOUT  PEOPLE  I  HAVE  MET 

J.  M.  BARRIE 

A    Round  Robin   from   His   Humble   and   Devoted   Servants    the 
Alphabet 

THE  Lord  forgive  if  we  trangress 

Thus  to  familiarly  address 

One  of  our  betters. 

But,  Jamie,  do  you  no  recall 

The  slate  whereon  you  learned  to  scrawl 

Your  Humble  Letters'? 

Well  we  remember  how  you  drew 
Our  shapely  features  all  askew, 
Unflattering  really. 
You  made  A  lame  and  B  too  fat. 
And  C  too  curly — what  of  that! 
We  loved  you  dearly. 

From  that  first  day  we  owned  your  spell. 
And  just  because  you  used  us  well 

We  served  you  blindly. 
Why,  even  when  you  put  us  through 
A  fearsome  Scottish  reel,  we  knew 

You  meant  it  kindly. 

[61] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


J.  M.  BARRIE—  [Continued] 

Jamie,  'tis  said  Grand  Tales  there  be 
Still  biding  in  the  ABC— 

If  this  be  true, 

Quick,  Jamie !   Cast  your  golden  net. 
Maybe  we  have  the  grandest  yet 

In  store  for  you. 


[62] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  HORSE 


THE  Horse,  I  don't  mind  telling  you, 


Is  not  an  easy  thing  to  do. 


With  Cats  and  Lions,  I  confess, 


I've  had  a  measure  of  success; 


3    Likewise  with  Camels,   Mice  and  Snails 


And  Frogs  and  Butterflies  and  Whales. 

[63] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  HORSE—  [Continued] 


Eels  and  Rhinoc' ruses  and  Ants 


And  Porcupines  and  Elephants 


And  Bees  and  Yaks  and  Owls.     But  when 


I  try  to  draw  a  Horse,  my  pen 


Sputters  and  scares  the  high-strung  steed, 


Who  gallops  off  at  such  a  speed 


You  have  to  take  the  beast  on  trust1 
You  can  not  see  him  for  the  dust. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE    TOWN    CAT 

THE  melancholy  days  are  come, 

The  saddest  of  the  year; 
Of  houses  closed  and  doorbells  dumb 

And  windows  dark  and  drear. 


Now  Dives  to  his  country  seat 
Has  hied  himself  away, 

And  Tabby  turned  into  the  street 
Must  shift  as  best  she  may. 


[65] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOWN  CAT—  [Continued] 

No  more  the  cushion  soft  as  silk, 
The  catnip  ball  no  more; 

No  more  the  saucer  full  of  milk 
Behind  the  pantry  door. 

Nor  shall  she  in  the  temple  prey 
Upon  the  lean  church  mouse; 

The  good  Lord,  too,  has  gone  away 
And  closed  his  city  house. 


[66] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TOWN  CAT—  [Continued] 

When  Dives  hies  him  back  once  more 
To  his  town  house,  oh,  shame! 

Tabby  will  greet  him  at  the  door, 
But  not — no,  not  the  same. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


TOWSER 


MY  hair  hangs  down  on  either  side 

Like  a  Niagara  small. 
Why  is  it  this,  my  greatest  pride, 

Should  bring  about  my  fall? 


Why  is  it  that  my  well  brushed  hair, 
That  now  so  smoothly  lies, 

As  soon  as  I  descend  the  stair 

Always  gets  in  my  eyes'? 
[68] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


TOWSER—  [Continued] 

No  wonder,  thus  deprived  of  sight, 

I  step  on  empty  air 
And  to  the  bottom  of  the  flight 

Rebound  from  stair  to  stair. 

I'm  not  the  sort  of  dog  that  cares 
To  make  a  fuss  when  hit ; 

But  falling  down  a  flight  of  stairs 
Is  not  the  worst  of  it. 


As  there  I  lie  completely  out 
Of  breath  and  very  flat, 

Why  is  it  always  some  one  stout 
That  takes  me  for  a  mat? 


[69] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE    OYSTER 


IN  Autumn,  when  the  leaves  are  dead, 
They  take  us  from  our  Oyster-bed, 
And  all  the  winter  long  they  keep 
Us  up,  without  a  wink  of  sleep — 


And  doesn't  it  seem  hard  to  you 
When  Spring  is  here,  and  skies  are  blue, 
And  we  should  like  so  much  to  stay, 
We  have  to  be  in  bed  by  MAY  *? 


[70] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  MOUSE 

A  Study  in  Egotisms 

Scene:   A  drawing-room. 

Persons:  Clarissa,  the  Mouse,  Purrline. 

CLARISSA  :  Help !  Help !  A  Mouse ! 

MOUSE:  Don't  be  alarmed!     Pm  here! 

I  hurried  when  I  heard  you  scream— 

CLARISSA:  Oh,  dear! 

If  it  jumps  up  at  me  I  shall  expire ! 

MOUSE:  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  enquire, 

Why  are  you  standing  there  in  such  a  fright, 
Upon  a  chair,  clutching  your  frock  so  tight 
About  your — 

CLARISSA:  Help!    Oh  dear!    I  wonder  what 

That  girl's  about!     Good  heavens!     I  forgot 
It's  Jane's  day  out.    There's  no  one  in  the  house 
But  me — 

MOUSE:  Fair  lady!    I  am  but  a  Mouse, 

A  simple  Mouse,  but  underneath  this  fur 
There  beats  a  heart  whose  motto  is  Sans  Purr. 
To  see  a  lovely  female  in  distress 
Rouses  in  me  the  spirit  of  Noblesse. 

[71] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  MOUSE—  [Continued] 

To  her  protection  instantly  I  fly. 

No  common  Mus  Domesticus  am  I ! 

You  may  have  heard — 
CLARISSA:  If  only  Jane  were  here! 

What  shall  I  do? 
MOUSE:  Dear  lady,  have  no  fear! 

As  I  was  saying,  doubtless  you've  heard  tell 

How   once   a  Mountain  bore   a  Mouse-child. 
Well, 

I  was  that  Child !    Or  rather,  to  be  more 

Strictly  veracious,  'twas  my  Ancestor; 

And  sometimes  when  I  dream  of  deeds  Titanic 

I  think  that  Mountain  must  have  been  Volcanic ! 

So  have  no  fear!     If  any  one  should  dare 

Molest  you,  I  am  here  beneath  your  chair, 

Ready  to  spring — 
CLARISSA  :  Mercy !    I  wonder  why 

It  squeaks  like  that !    It's  crazy !    I  shall  die 

If  it- 
MOUSE  :  Sweet  lady !    Though  I  cannot  guess 

From  your  queer  speech  the  cause  of  your  dis- 
tress, 

Your  voice,  quite  meaningless  to  my  Mouse  ear, 

Is  strangely  sweet  and  musical  and  clear; 

And,  though  they  violate  our  beauty-laws, 

I  never  saw  such  shapely  hinder  paws 

[72] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  MOUSE—  [Continued] 

As  yours,  so  smooth  and  beautiful  to  see, 

So  silky  white,  like  sticks  of  celery. 

Upon  each  side  a  tender  sprig  of  gold — 

Gold  as  pure  Cheese,  and  toothsome  to  behold — 

Climbs  up  and  up!     'Tis  called,  so  I  am  told 

By  Mice  more  versed  in  lady-lore,  a  Clock. 

Once,  it  is  said,  a  Mouse  named  Dickery  Dock 

Ran  up  the — 

CLARISSA  :  Ouch ! ! ! 

MOUSE:  I  wonder  if  I  dare! 

Only  the  brave  deserve — 
CLARISSA:  O  Lord!     This  chair 

Is  giving  way!     If  it  should  break! — What's 
that? 

It's  Purrline's  mew!     Here,  Puss!  Fuse! — 
MOUSE:  What?    The  Cat! 

I'd  love  to  meet  him !    But  it's  getting  late. 

My  wife's  expecting  me.     I  musn't  wait! 

(Exit) 

PURRLINE:  Me-ouw! 
CLARISSA:  And  is  that  all  you've  got  to  say? 

Did  you  expect  the  Mouse  to  wait  all  day? 

For  all  you  care,  I  might  have  died  of  fright ! 

My !    But  I'm  glad  it  got  away  all  right ! 

CURTAIN 

[73] 


PEOPLE  I  HAVE  NOT  MET 


PEOPLE  I  HAVE  NOT  MET 
THE  TURTLE 

I  NEVER  wasted  any  love 
On  turtles,  but  the  turtle-dove 

Is  quite  another  thing; 
When  I  have  nothing  else  to  do, 
I  love  to  hear  them  bill  and  coo 

While  mating  in  the  spring. 


There's  something  in  their  plaintive  note 
That  brings  a  lump  into  my  throat 

And  makes  my  pulses  stir; 
Something  between  a  smothered  sn. 
And  the  shrill  creaking  of  a  door, 

That  soothes  me,  as  it  were. 

[77] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  TURTLE—  [Continued] 


How  strange  is  Nature's  alchemy, 
To  think  that  living  in  the  sea 

Should  change  a  creature  so! 
The  turtle  of  the  finny  kind 
That  swims  the  sea,  is  to  my  mind 

The  lowest  of  the  low. 


And  yet,  O  inconsistency ! 
Although  the  turtle  is  to  me 

A  most  obnoxious  beast, 
When  on  a  menu  card  I  spy 
"Green  Turtle,  Soup,"  though  it  comes  high, 

I  take  two  plates  at  least ! 

[78] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MICHAEL  O'LEARY 

WHEN  forming  one  of  a  storming  party  which  advanced 
against  an  enemy's  barricade,  O'Leary  rushed  to  the  front 
and  himself  killed  five  Germans  who  were  holding  the  first 
barricade,  after  which  he  attacked  the  second  barricade, 
about  sixty  yards  further  on,  which  he  captured  after  killing 
three  of  the  enemy  and  making  prisoners  of  two  more. 


You  may  talk  of  the  Rebels  of  Ulster 
And  the  shindy  we  had  to  chuck; 

But  we  don't  give  a  rap  for  a  family  scrap 
Whin  the  Prooshuns  is  running  amuck. 

Did  you  hear  how  Lance  Corporal  O'Leary, 

Mike  O'Leary  of  the  Guards, 
Wid  his  own  two  mits,  tore  a  forthress  to  bits 

Like  a  blissed  conthraption  of  cards. 


He'd  a  shmile,  had  Mike,  that  'ud  span  a  dyke, 

And  a  fist  that  'ud  fell  a  horse, 
And  he  ripped  through  the  mire  of  blood  and 
barbed  wire, 

Like  a  bull  through  a  bunch  of  gorse. 

[79] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MICHAEL  O'LEARY—  [Continued] 


Whin  he  waded  in,  sure  'twas  a  sin, 

The  way  that  he  bashed  and  bruk  'em; 

He  dropped  on  thim  Huns  like  forty  tons, 
And  they  niver  knew  what  had  struck  'em. 

"Poor  dears,"  says  Mike,  "I'm  thinking  belike 
All  the  news  they've  been  told  is  lies, 

So  it's  up  to  me,  'ere  it's  kilt  they  be, 
To  put  the  poor  divils  wise. 

"Thim  Huns,  I'm  told,  while  outrageous  bold 

Is  over  a  trifle  dull. 
Sure,  if  that's  a  fact,  'tis  a  friendly  act 

To  hammer  it  through  their  skull, 

[80] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MICHAEL  O'LEARY—  [Continued] 

"So  here's  for  insulting  old  Erin, 
By  thinking  a  thraitor  she'd  be ! 

And  here's  for  your  Imperor  sneerin' ! 
'Contemptible  army,'  says  he. 

"Here's  one  for  the  mothers  whose  pleadin' 
You  stopped  with  a  shot  and  a  curse, 

And  one  for  the  girls  dead  and  bleedin' 
And  the  girls  that  you  spared — for  worse. 

"For  the  churches  you  shelled  and  the  priests 
you  felled 

Here's  one!     And  the  women,  too, 
You  held  for  a  shield  on  the  battle  field, 

And  the  innocent  babes  you  slew." 

Whin  O'Leary  had  done,  there  was  divil  a  one 
Left  to  tumble  to  what  he  said — 

Barrin'  only  ten,  which  I'm  wrong  again, 
For  eight  av  the  ten  was  dead. 


[81] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ABOVE  the  plate-glass  window-pane, 

Inviting  every  passing  gaze, 
Hung  an  inscription,  large  and  plain, 

"THE  HUSBAND  SHOP."  This,  in  amaze, 
Clorinda  seeing,  stopped  wide-eyed, 
And  stared,  then  turned  and  stepped  inside. 

A  floor-walker  whose  faultlessness 

And  condescending  air  proclaimed 
One  of  the  table  d'haute  noblesse, 

[82] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CLORINDA—  [Continued] 

Approached  Clorinda  and  exclaimed, 
With  graceful  undulating  palm : 
"Something  in  husbands'?     Om,  Madame.' 


"We  have  the  latest  thing  of  all 
In  husbands;  kindly  step  this  way. 

We're  using  them  on  hats  this  fall, 
In  place  of  plume  or  floral  spray, 

The  creature  being  pinned  or  tied 

With  chiffon  bows  on  either  side." 


He  leads  the  way,  all  wreathed  in  smiles, 
And  wonderful  in  spotless  spats 

That  flitter  like  twin  butterflies 
Along  an  avenue  of  hats, 

Each  one  displaying  on  its  brim 

A  husband — fashion's  latest  whim. 


Clorinda  tries  them  each  in  turn 

Before  the  glass;  some  are  too  small, 

And  some  too  cold,  and  some  too  stern, 
And  some  are  slightly  soiled,  and  all, 

When  punctured  by  the  hat-pin's  steel, 

Betray  by  squirms  how  bored  they  feel. 

[83] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


CLORINDA—  [Continued] 

At  last  Clorinda  came  to  one 

Marked  "Dibbs"  that  scarce  seemed  worth  her 

while; 
But  when  she  tried  it  on  for  fun, 

It  met  the  hat-pin  with  a  smile, 
As  if  to  say,  "Oh,  beauteous  miss, 
Even  a  stab  from  you  is  bliss!" 

"The  very  thing!  but  thrown  away 

Upon  a  hat!"  Clorinda  cried. 
"  'T  would  make  a  sweet  corsage  bouquet." 

The  shoppers  stared  electrified, 
To  see  Clorinda  Dibbs  depart 
Wearing  a  husband  next  her  heart. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ALCIBIADES    J.    SKINNER 

ALCIBIADES  J.  SKINNER 
Was  a  famous  after-dinner 

Speaker.  Great  the  way 
He  secured,  just  by  excelling 
In  the  art  of  Story  Telling, 

One  good  meal  a  day. 


Chestnuts  more  than  often  passe 
He  exchanged  for  Marrons  Glaces, 

Canvasback  and  Quail. 
Flat  the  feast  and  dull  the  dinner 
Lacking  that  accomplished  Spinner 

Of  Postprandial  Tale. 


Every  mail  brought  invitations: 
Teas  and  luncheons  and  collations, 

Dinners  without  end. 
No  one  to  a  Formal  Function 
Such  impressiveness,  such  unction, 

Such  eclat  could  lend. 

[85] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ALCIBIADE*J.  SKINNER—  [Continued] 

At  that  gruesomest  of  gruesome 
Rites,  The  Banquet  tendered  to  some 

Literary  Light, 

None  could  say  with  such  conviction, 
"We  have  Snooks  of  Snappy  Fiction 

In  our  midst  To-night." 

How  he  said  it  made  no  matter; 
Shaft  of  Wit  or  Broadway  Patter 

Meets  with  like  acclaim. 
Latest  Mot  or  Jest  Historic, 
To  the  dinner  guest  plethoric 

It  is  all  the  same. 

When  he  said,  "This  moment  finds  me 
Unprepared,"  or,  "That  reminds  me," 

There  would  be  a  hum 
Of  expectance,  or  a  rippling 
As  though  Daniel  (or  Kipling) 

Had  to  Judgment  come. 

Alas  for  Fame!    As  A.  J.  Skinner 
Put  it  at  the  Author's  Dinner, 

"Fame's  a  fickle  Jade!" 
Had  he  then  an  intimation 
That  his  own  wide  reputation 

Was  ere  long  to  fade*? 
[86] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ALCIBIADES  J.  SKINNER—  [Continued] 

From  that  day  his  after-dinner 
Stories  thinner  grew  and  thinner. 

Sorry  was  his  case. 
Rare  the  dinner  invitation, 
Rarer  still  the  lunch — Starvation 

Stared  him  in  the  face. 

One  day  as  his  eye  was  wandering 
O'er  a  map,  he  fell  to  pondering: 

"If  I  cross  the  Main, 
Somewhere  'twixt  the  Poles  and  Tropics 
I  may  find  some  brand  new  Topics 

For  my  food  campaign!" 

So  one  Friday  A.  J.  Skinner 
Bought  a  passage  and  an  "Inner" 

On  a  sailing  ship; 
Not  for  sport  or  relaxation, 
Not  for  rest  or  recreation — 

'Twas  a  business  trip. 

Fatal  trip,  had  he  but  known  it ! 
Or  a  Fortune  Teller  shown  it 

Written  on  his  palm! — 
How  one  morning  bright  and  sunny, 
With  a  breeze  as  soft  as  honey, 

And  a  sea  as  calm — 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ALCIBJADES  J.  SKINNER—  [Continued] 

Somewhere  in  the  South  Pacific 
There  would  spring  up  a  terrific 

Tropical  typhoon — 
Smite  their  helpless  ship  and  bear  it 
On  a  mountain  wave  and  tear  it 

Like  a  Toy  Balloon. 

Luckily  for  Mr.  Skinner, 

When  she  sank  he  was  not  in  her. 

Clinging  to  a  Spar, 
Being,  too,  an  expert  swimmer, 
Soon  he  saw  the  breakers'  glimmer 

On  a  sandy  bar. 

Lucky,  did  I  say?    Appalling 

Choice  of  words !    Would  you  when  crawling 

Up  a  Sandbank  gritty, 
On  firm  land  a  foothold  winning, 
Call  it  luck  to  meet  a  grinning 

Cannibal  Committee'? 

Well,  to  make  a  long  narration 
Shorter  (by  abbreviation), 

Soon  as  he  was  sighted 
Alcibiades  J.  Skinner 
To  a  most  select  Shore  Dinner 

Was  at  once  invited. 
[88] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


ALCIBIADES  J.  SKINNER—  [Continued] 

Never  had  the  South  Pacific 
Witnessed  such  a  beatific  r 

Banquet  as  was  here. 
Never  was  such  mirth  unbounded 
As  when  that  far  beach  resounded 

With  unwonted  cheer. 
*         *          #          *          *          *         * 

Epicures  on  South  Sea  beaches 

Waste  no  time  on  Toasts  and  Speeches; 

Happy  dreams  had  they. 
In  their  midst  was  A.  J.  Skinner, 
Most  nutritious  After-Dinner 

Speaker  of  his  day. 


[89] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


EVE 

Apropos  de  Rien 


IT  is  not  fair  to  visit  all 
The  blame  on  Eve,  for  Adam's  fall ; 
The  most  Eve  did  was  to  display 
Contributory  neglige. 


[90] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  HIGHBROW  HEN 


SAID  Farmer  Dole  to  his  speckled  hen, 
"Why  don't  you  lay  for  me  now  and  then?" 
Said  the  speckled  hen  to  Farmer  Dole, 
"Because  I've  taken  up  birth  control." 


[91] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SIR  IPPYKIN 


GRIM  Giant  Graft  sate  in  his  cavern  dim; 

A  king's  reward  was  offered  for  him  dead. 
He  scowled  to  think  it  could  not  come  to  him, 

That  price  upon  his  head. 


Of  all  his  foes  he  dreaded  only  one, 

A  knight  of  stalwart  heart  and  spotless  fame, 

Who  feared  no  creature  underneath  the  sun- 
Sir  Ippykin  his  name. 


One  night  to  Ippykin  there  came  a  thought — 
A  mocking  thought,  that  whispered  in  his  ear: 

"Ah,  ha,  Sir  Knight !  men  say  thou  fearest  naught; 
They  lie — thou  fearest  Fear! 


Fear  smites  you  when  you  read  the  king's  decree 
That  whatsoever  knight  shall  rid  the  land 

Of  Giant  Graft  will  gain  a  golden  fee, 
Likewise  his  daughter's  hand. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SIR  IPPYKIN—  [Continued] 

You  fear  to  win,  for  fear  that  you  must  wed 
The  princess — for  you  love  another  maid; 

You  dare  not  lose  the  fight  because  you  dread 
Lest  men  call  you  afraid." 

Cried  Ippykin,  "Lord,  how  shall  I  cut  through 
This  tangled  coil?"    Then  of  a  sudden  laughed 

A  gleeful  laugh,  and  rose  and  hied  him  to 
The  cave  of  Giant  Graft. 

No  chronicler  was  present  to  reveal 

What  passed  between  the  knight  and  Giant 

Graft; 
Or  what  the  bargain  was  the  which  to  seal 

So  many  horns  they  quaffed. 

But  this  is  sure — thereafter  from  the  lands 
Of  Ippykin  once  every  week  would  stray 

Certain  fat  sheep  into  the  Giant's  hands 
In  some  mysterious  way; 

And  once  a  week  the  giant  and  the  knight 

Would  chase  each  other  round  in  seeming  strife, 

Until  the  king  grew  weary  of  the  sight, 
And  pensioned  both  for  life. 

[93] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SIR  IPPYKIN—  [Continued] 

Then  Ippykin  and  his  true  love  were  wed 
And  both  lived  happy  till  they  passed  away; 

But  Giant  Graft,  fat,  flagrant,  and  well  fed, 
Is  living  to  this  day. 


[94] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  COP 

THE  New  York  Police  Force  is  to  be  instructed  in  psychol- 
ogy.— News  Item. 

ONE  morn,  as  Robert  Ristwatch  Rice 
Sped  CM^rward  for  his  midday  meal, 

Upon  his  shoulder,  like  a  vise, 
He  felt  a  grip  of  steel. 

And  in  his  ear  a  voice  there  hissed 
(With  spirits  fraught,  and  crime), 

And  something  snapped  around  his  wrist 
That  did  not  tell  the  time. 

"I've  pinched  yer  now!"  (devoid  of  tact 
Was  Sergeant  Fay ) .-    "For  shame ! 

Yer  Hun !    I  caught  yer  in  the  act 
Insulthr  that  there  dame! 

"That  skirt  there  in  the  showy  lid, 

And  muff  of  classy  fur." 
"My  word !"  cried  Robert  Rice,  "I  did 

Not  even  speak  to  her." 

[95] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  COP—  [Continued] 

"What's  words  to  me,  just  froth  and  foam! 

I'm  a  psycholic  guy — 
I  lamp  yer  thoughts  inside  yer  dome 

With  my  subconscious  eye !" 

"Then  you  should  know,"  said  Rice,  "I'm  a 

MISOGYNIST  !" — "By  Gee ! 
That  settles  you!"  cried  Sergeant  Fay; 

"You  come  along  with  me." 


[96] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


BESIDE  a  Primrose  'broider'd  Rill 
Sat  Phyllis  Lee  in  Silken  Dress 

Whilst  Lucius  limn'd  with  loving  skill 
Her  likeness,  as  a  Shepherdess. 

Yet  tho'  he  strove  with  loving  skill 

His  Brush  refused  to  work  his  Will. 

[97] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


PHYLLIS  LEE [Continued] 

"Dear  Maid,  unless  you  close  your  Eyes 
I  can  not  paint  to-day,"  he  said; 

"Their  Brightness  shames  the  very  Skies 
And  turns  their  Turquoise  into  Lead." 

Quoth  Phyllis,  then,  "To  save  the  Skies 

And  speed  your  Brush,  I'll  shut  my  Eyes." 

Now  when  her  Eyes  were  closed,  the  Dear, 
Not  dreaming  of  such  Treachery, 

Felt  a  Soft  Whisper  in  her  Ear, 

"Without  the  Light,  how  can  one  See?" 

"If  you  are  sure  that  none  can  see 

I'll  keep  them  shut,"  said  Phyllis  Lee. 


[98] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MRS.    SEYMOUR    FENTOLIN 

IT  was  Mrs.  Seymour  Fentolin  who  stood  there,  a  little  dog 
under  each  arm;  a  large  hat,  gay  with  flowers,  upon  her 
head.  She  wore  patent  shoes  with  high  heels,  and  white  silk 
stockings.  She  had,  indeed,  the  air  of  being  dressed  for 
luncheon  at  a  fashionable  restaurant. 

From  a  story  in  The  Popular  Magazine. 


THE  lauded  lilies  of  the  field 
Who  toil  not — neither  do  they  spin. 
The  palm  sartorial  must  yield 
To  Mrs.  Seymour  Fentolin. 


A  hat,  French  heels,  white  stockings, 

dogs! 

Not  even  Solomon  could  win 
The  championship  for  showy  togs 
From  Mrs.  Seymour  Fentolin. 

The  two  extremes  in  decollete, 
Of  ballroom  and  of  bathing  beach, 
Here  meet  in  a  bewildering  way 
And  mingle  all  the  charms  of  each. 

[99] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MRS.  SEYMOUR  FENTOLIN—  [Continued] 

I  am  no  social  butter-in, 

I  do  not  crave  to  meet  her  bunch, 

But  where  does  Mrs.   Fentolin, 

If  one  might  venture — take  her  lunch? 

And  might  one  ask  that  peerless  dame, 
Without  appearing  impolite, 
Is  Seymour  really  her  first  name, 
And  has  the  printer  spelt  it  right4? 


[100] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  DEVIL  AMONG  THE  LAWI£$  V 


THE  Devil  seeking  some  new  way 
To  kill  eternity,  one  day 

(So  bored  he  was,  in  Hades) 
Flew  to  Manhattan  Isle  to  start 
A  Summer  School  to  teach  the  art 

Of  Smuggling  to  Ladies. 

ii 

He  opened  in  an  uptown  street 
A  Modiste's  shop  refined  and  neat 
(The  number  doesn't  matter), 
Displaying  in  his  window  all 
The  Modes — Spring,  Summer,  Winter, 
Fall 

(Especially  the  latter). 

HI 

The  Ladies  came  in  eager  flocks, 
And  as  he  showed  his  Paris  frocks, 

With  dext'rous  verbal  juggling, 
He  lightly  led  the  talk  from  Modes 
To  Customs — and  the  law  that  goads 

An  honest  girl  to  smuggling. 


[101] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  DEVIL  AMONG  THE  LADIES—  [Continued] 

IV 

"If 'Uncle  Sam  for  Revenue, 

Dear  ^Ladies,  picks  your  pockets,  you 

The  compliment  should  bandy. 
Pray  let  me  teach  you  how  to  pick 
The  spangled  pockets  of  that  slick 

Avuncular  old  Dandy. 


"We  can  begin  at  once,  if  you 
Will  step  this  way."     The  giddy  crew 
Flocked  after  him  like  chickens 

[102] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  DEVIL  AMONG  THE  LADIES—  [Continued] 

To  where  an  effigy  there  hung 
Of  Uncle  Sam  with  bells  be-strung 
Like  Fagin's  doll  in  Dickens. 

VI 

The  Devil  then  with  money  fills 

The  dummy's  pockets — gold  and  bills 

And  silver  pieces  mingling. 
"Now  try  your  skill !  all  you  can  take 
Is  yours,  my  dears,  if  you  don't  shake 

The  bells  and  set  them  jingling." 


vn 


The  news  flew  round,  and  soon  the  crush 
Was  like  a  bargain-counter  rush 
Of  Frantic  Ladies  struggling; 

[  103] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  DEVIL  AMONG  THE  LADIES—  [Continued] 

And  soon  the  Devil  was  about 
A  hundred  thousand  dollars  out 

And  closed  his  School  of  Smuggling. 

VIII 

Exclaiming,  "I'm  behind  the  age !" 
He  kicked  the  dummy  in  his  rage. 

"What's  this— the  bells  don't  jingle!" 
And  sure  enough  the  bells  were  dumb. 
Deftly  inserted  chewing  gum 

Had  stopped  their  tingle-tingle. 

• 

IX 

"Ho!  ho!"  he  laughed,  "  'tis  plain  to  see 
New  York  is  too  advanced  for  me. 

I  should  have  stayed  in  Hades; 
For  who  the  devil,  pray,  am  I 
In  this  enlightened  age  to  try 

My  wit  against  the  Ladies!" 


[  104] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SPRING 


BY  his  cold  hearth,  sans  Youth,  sans  Mirth, 
Sits  poor  old  shivering  Daddy  Earth. 


A  knock,  a  footstep  on  the  floor. 

"Come  in !"  he  growls — "and  shut  that  door!" 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SPRING— [Continued] 

Two  soft  hands  on  his  eyelids  press; 

A  laughing  voice:  "Who  am  Is? — guess!" 

"  'Tis  Mistress  Spring!    Alas,  my  dear, 
You  find  me  sadly  changed,  I  fear." 


"Cheer  up!"  cried  Spring,  "I  bring  for  you 
The  Spell  of  Youth:  Gold— Silver— Blue/ 
[106] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


SPRING—  [Continued] 

Sun  gold,  sky  turquoise,  silver  rain, 
And  Daddy  Earth  was  young  again! 

He  danced,  he  sang:  "Hail  Spring  divine! 
Ethereal  Spring — h'm — wine ? — pine — shine?' 

Too  late  the  rhyme  popped  in  his  head; 
"Be  mine!"  he  sang — but  Spring  had  fled. 


[107] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  CATFISH 

THE  saddest  fish  that  swims  the  briny  ocean, 

The  Catfish  I  bewail. 
I  can  not  even  think  without  emotion 

Of  his  distressful  tail. 
When  with  my  pencil  once  I  tried  to  draw  one, 

(I  dare  not  show  it  here) 
Mayhap  it  is  because  I  never  saw  one, 

The  picture  looked  so  queer. 
I  vision  him  half  feline  and  half  fisny, 

A  paradox  in  twins, 
Unmixable  as  vitriol  and  vichy — 

A  thing  of  fur  and  fins. 
A  feline  Tantalus,  forever  chasing 

His  fishy  self  to  rend ; 
His  finny  self  forever  self-effacing 

In  circles  without  end. 
This  tale  may  have  a  Moral  running  through  it 

As  JEsop  had  in  his; 
If  so,  dear  reader,  you  are  welcome  to  it, 

If  you  know  what  it  is ! 


[108] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  PRODIGAL  CENTIPEDE 

ONCE  to  a  Centipede  a  Snail 
Remarked,  "I  wonder  why  you  trail 
Along  the  ground  with  such  a  lot 
of  feet — a  hundred,  is  it  not? 
A  hundred  feet !  when  two  or  three 
Are  all  you  need.    Just  look  at  me ! 


The  speed  and  ease  with  which  I  crawl, 
And  yet  I  have  no  feet  at  all ! 
In  these  days  would  it  not  be  wise 
For  you  to — well,  to  HooferizeV 
You  surely  don't  need  more  than  two 
To  get  along !    If  I  were  you, 
I'd  use  one  pair  and  stand  up  straight, 
And  save  the  other  ninety-eight 
Against  a  rainy  day." 

[109] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  PRODIGAL  CENTIPEDE—  [Continued] 

"Indeed 

You're  right!"  replied  the  Centipede. 
"I've  often  thought,  to  do  my  part, 
'Twould  be  advisable  to  start 
A  Feetless  Day — but  then,  you  see, 
If  I  stood  upright  I  should  be 
A  hundred  feet  in  height,  and  I 
Might  bump  my  head  against  the  sky !" 
"Well,"  said  the  Snail,  "I  must  admit 
That  puts  a  different  face  on  it ! 
Your  life  depends  on  lying  flat ! 
Dear!  Dear!    I  hadn't  thought  of  that!" 


[110] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


A  BALLADE  OF  BLACK  SOCKS 

PLAIN  Black  socks  can  never  be  wrong. 

— The  Gentleman  of  Letters 
in  "Vanity  Fair" 

LORDS  of  Fashion  may  disagree 

On  the  question  of  questions,  what  to  wear 
At  dejeuner,  dinner,  dance  or  tea, 

"Feed  informal"  or  "Smart  affair." 
Let  not  the  neophyte  despair 

Dreading  disdain  of  the  gilded  throng 
Hark  to  the  dictum  of  Vanity  Fair 

"Plain  Black  Socks  can  never  be  wrong." 

Let  scribes  sartorial  decree 

Whether  the  "skirt"  shall  be  full  or  spare, 
Whether  the  crease  be  above  the  knee, 

Whether  the  seam  shall  be  here  or  there. 
Of  the  openwork  sock  with  the  clock  beware ! 

On  Fancy's  rein  let  your  curb  be  strong! 
Hark  to  the  dictum  of  Vanity  Fair, 

"Plain  Black  Socks  can  never  be  wrong." 


The  Laughing  Willow 


A  BALLADE  OF  BLACK  SOCKS—  [Continued] 

Doubting  dolts  may  be  all  at  sea 

Tossed  on  tempestuous  waves  of  care. 
Are  they  wearing  two  studs'? — or  one? — or  three? 

Will  a  satin  tie  cause  a  well  bred  stare? 
Leave  dressy  deeds  to  dudes  that  dare! 

Heed  not  the  scented  siren's  song 
Hark  to  the  dictum  of  Vanity  Fair, 

"Plain  Black  Socks  can  never  be  wrong." 

L'envoi 

Princes  of  Fashion,  wherever  ye  fare — 
London,  Paris,  New  York,  Hong  Kong, 
Hark  to  the  dictum  of  Vanity  Fair: 
"Plain  Black  Socks  can  never  be  wrong." 


[112] 


OTHER  PEOPLE  INCLUDING 
MARK  TWAIN 


OTHER  PEOPLE  INCLUDING  MARK  TWAIN 


Horace 
THE    GENTLEMAN    OF    LETTERS 

"How  splendid  to  have  men's  attire  treated  by  a  gentleman 
and  litterateur.— John  Armstrong  Chaloner. 

AH  me!    Had  Horace  when  his  muse  was  flagging, 
But  given  laughing  Lalage  a  rest, 
And  kept  Maecenas'  pantaloons  from  bagging, 
(Whatever  'twas  he  wore  below  his  vest.) 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  GENTLEMAN  OF  LETTERS—  [Continued] 


Moore 


If  when  his  frisky  Pegasus  he  mounted, 

He'd  sung,  instead  of  the  eternal  HER 

The  stylish  HIM,  he  might  have  been  accounted 

A  gentleman  as  well  as  litterateur. 

If  Shakespeare  had  abstained  from  malty  liquors, 
And  spent  the  time  (when  not  purloining  plays) 
In  pressing  Francis  Bacon's  velvet  knickers 
He  might  thereby  have  gained  a  social  raise. 

If  Tommy  Moore  when  not  devoutly  pressing 
His  suit  in  amorous  rhyme,  had  pressed  instead 
His  patrons  lordly  "pants,"  it  is  past  guessing 
What  titles  had  been  showered  on  his  head. 

[116] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  GENTLEMAN  OF  LETTERS—  [Continued] 

Had  Bobby  Burns  renounced  his  Highland  lassies, 
And  tuned  his  pipes  to  "Gentlemen's  attire," 
He  might  in  time  have  risen  from  the  masses 
And  been  addressed  as  Robert  Burns,  Esquire. 

If  Hall  Caine— .  . 


but  why  drag  in  Hall  Caine? 


Come,  Chaloner,  confess  like  a  good  feller 
By  "Gentleman  and  litterateur"  you  meant 
The  literary  style  of  the  Best  Seller 
And  the  strictly  pure  refinement  of  the  Gent. 


[117] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASS 

"THE  artists  and  writers  were  the  first  Americans  to  make 
themselves  at  home  in  this  amusing  Parisian  resort.  (The 
Old  Cafe  Martin.)  And  it  was  here,  too,  that  women  of  the 
better  class  first  tasted  the  delights  of  cafe  life.  It  was 
considered  quite  a  daring  thing  in  the  late  eighties  for  be- 
cloaked  and  be-diamonded  women  of  Fifth  Avenue  to  sit 
here  and  sip  their  after-dinner  coffee." 

Vanity  Fair. 


ONE  of  those  queer,  artistic  dives, 
Where  funny  people  had  their  fling. 
Artists,  and  writers,  and  their  wives — 
Poets,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 

[us] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASS—  [Continued} 

Here,  too,  to  view  the  vulgar  herd 
And  sip  the  daring  demi-tasse— 
Be-cloaked,  be-diamonded,  be-furred — 
Came  women  of  the  better  class. 

With  its  Parisian  atmosphere, 
It  had  a  Latin  Quarter  ring. 
Painters  and  journalists  came  here — 
Actors,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Here,  too,  to  watch  the  Great  Ungroomed 
And  sip  the  dangerous  demi-tasse, 
Be-furred,  be-feathered  and  be-plumed, 
Came  women  of  the  better  class. 

Here  Howells  dined — Saint  Gaudens,  Nast, 
Kipling,  Mark  Twain  and  Peter  Dunne, 
Nell  Terry,  and  not  least  though  last 
One  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 
And  mingling  with  that  underworld, 
To  sip  the  devilish  demi-tasse, 
Be-cloaked,  be-diamonded,  be-pearled, 
Came  women  of  the  better  class. 

Like  geese  to  see  the  lions  fed, 

They  came — be-je welled  and  be-laced, 

Only  to  find  the  lions  fled. 

"My  Word!"  cried  they,  "What  wretched  taste!" 

[119] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  BETTER  CLASS—  [Continued] 

Ermined  and  minked  and  Persian-lambed, 
Be-puffed  (be-painted,  too,  alas!) 
Be-decked,  be-diamonded — be-damned ! 
The  women  of  the  better  class. 


[120] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARK  TWAIN 
A  Pipe  Dream 

WELL  I  recall  how  first  I  met 

Mark  Twain — an  infant  barely  three 

Rolling  a  tiny  cigarette 

While  cooing  on  his  nurse's  knee. 


[121] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARK  TWAIN—  [Continued] 

Since  then  in  every  sort  of  place 

I've  met  with  Mark  and  heard  him  joke. 

Yet  how  can  I  describe  his  face? 
I  never  saw  it  for  the  smoke. 


At  school  he  won  a  smokers hip, 

At  Harvard  College  (Cambridge,  Mass.) 
His  name  was  soon  on  every  lip, 

They  made  him  "smoker"  of  his  class. 

Who  will  forget  his  smoking  bout 
With  Mount  Vesuvius — our  cheers — 

When  Mount  Vesuvius  went  out 
And  didn't  smoke  again  for  years'? 
[122] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


MARK  TWAIN—  [Continued] 

The  news  was  flashed  to  England's  King, 
Who  begged  Mark  Twain  to  come  and  stay, 

Offered  him  dukedoms — anything 
To  smoke  the  London  fog  away. 

But  Mark  was  firm.     "I  bow,"  said  he, 

"To  no  imperial  command, 
No  ducal  coronet  for  me, 

My  smoke  is  for  my  native  land !" 


For  Mark  there  waits  a  brighter  crown! 

When  Peter  comes  his  card  to  read — 
He'll  take  the  sign  "No  Smoking"  down, 

Then  Heaven  will  be  Heaven  indeed. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


PRINCE  POMPOM 

BENEATH  a  Fruitful  Apple  Tree 

Sate  Pompom,  youth  of  high  degree, 

And  Prince  of  Apple-Tartary ; 

While  in  the  branches  overhead 

The  apples  blushed  with  rapture  red, 

As  from  a  great  book  on  his  knees 

He  read  of  the  Hesperides, 

And  how,  to  win  the  apples  gold, 

One  Hercules,  a  Hero  bold, 

A  hundred-headed  Dragon  slew. 

"How  brave !    How  wonderful !    How  true !" 

Exclaimed  the  apples,  flushed  and  red. 

"That  proves  what  we  have  always  said: 

We  come  of  Ancient  Pedigree ! 

We're  of  the  Apples tocracy ! 

Our  title  cannot  be  denied." 

Whereat  they  swelled  and  swelled  with  Pride 

Until  their  High  and  Mighty  Air 

Was  more  than  Apple  Tree  could  bear. 

"Come !"  cried  the  Tree,  "you  must  vacate 

My  boughs — they  will  not  bear  your  weight!" 

[124] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


PRINCE  POMPOM—  [Continued] 

Pride  goes  before  a  fall. 

Alas! 

Next  morning,  prone  upon  the  grass, 
Blushing  for  shame,  the  Apples  lay, 
And  when  Queen  Pompom  passed  that  way 
She  picked  them  up,  and  by  and  by 
She  made  them  into  Apple  Pie. 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  SERIAL 
To  the  Tune  of  Tennyson 

I  burst  upon  the  reader's  eye 

With  verbal  trumpet  blaring, 
Proclaiming  me  the  latest  cry 

In  Dictionary  daring* — 
Vital,  compelling,  hectic,  rare, 

Heart-gripping,  epoch-making ! 
A  woman's  naked  soul  laid  bare, 

A  climax  record-breaking! 
A  quivering,  pulsating  plot, 

The  mystery  of  a  red  room, 
A  story  to  be  read  red  hot 

In  boudoir,  bath  or  bedroom, 
An  Eve,  repentant,  up  to  date, 

Confesses  what  her  fall  meant; 
You  simply  won't  know  how  to  wait 

Until  the  next  installment. 

I  come  from  heaven  knows  where — or  when. 

My  pedigree  is  shady. 
My  father  was  a  Fountain  Pen; 

My  mother,  a  Typelady, 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  SERIAL—  [Continued] 

Who  smote  the  keys  from  morn  till  night 
With  fingers  swift  and  taper, 

Till  I  appeared,  all  clean  and  bright, 
On  reams  of  foolscap  paper. 

And  now  in  serial  form  I  flow, 
And  flout  at  style  and  diction, 

As  like  a  babbling  brook  I  go 
To  join  the  Sea  of  Fiction. 

Some  streams,  I  know,  more  deeply  flow, 
And  some  for  speed  endeavor. 

Short  stories  come,  short  stories  go, 
But  I'll  go  on  forever. 

I  glitter  like  a  foolish  string 
Of  pearls,  with  polish  painful, 

With  epigrams  of  doubtful  ring 
And  platitudes  Hall-Caineful. 

And  many  a  mood  and  tense  amiss, 

And  metaphor  amuddle, 
And  here  and  there  a  clinging  kiss, 

And  here  and  there  a  cuddle — 


The  Laughing  Willou 


THE  SERIAL—  [Continued] 

And  here  and  there  a  phrase  in  French, 
To  give  a  touch  linguisty; 

And  here  and  there  a  Fisher  wench, 
And  here  and  there  a  Christy. 

And  here  and  there  and  everywhere 
My  thin  stream  slowly  trickles 

'Twixt  Bunk's  Elixir  for  the  Hair 
And  Black  and  Croswell's  Pickles. 

And  here  a  temperamental  scene, 
Fervid,  intense,  Byronic — 

Tosses  tempestuous  between 

Ayre's  Soap  and  Tinkham's  Tonic. 

A  sprightly  conversation's  flow 

Is  checked  by  Soak  and  Stingham's 

Pink  Pills,  to  reappear  below 
An  ad  for  ladies'  thingums. 

The  well-known  slip  'twixt  cup  and  lip 
Here,  too,  finds  confirmation — 

"He  raised  his  glass" — Thy  Anti-Grip! 
Beware  of  Imitations! 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  SERIAL— [Continued] 

— "Up  to  his  lips ;  when  on  his  wrist 

He  felt  a  grip,  steel-sinewed ; 
The  glass  fell,  and  a  hoarse  voice  hissed 

The  words" — To  be  Confirmed. 

Editorial  Note 
Some  streams,  we  know,  more  deeply  flow, 

And  some  for  speed  endeavor. 
Short  stones  come,  short  stories  go, 

But  this  goes  on  forever. 


[129] 


THE    CLOUD 

An  Idyll  of  the  Western  Front 

SCENE  :  A  wayside  shrine  in  France. 
PERSONS:    Celeste,  Pierre,  a  Cloud. 

CELESTE  (gazing  at  the  solitary  white  Cloud)  : 
I  wonder  what  your  thoughts  are,  little  Cloud, 
Up  in  the  sky,  so  lonely  and  so  proud ! 

CLOUD:     Not  proud,  dear  maiden;  lonely,  if  you 

will. 

Long  have  I  watched  you,  sitting  there  so  still 
Before  that  little  shrine  beside  the  way, 
And   wondered   where  your   thoughts   might  be 

astray ; 

Your  knitting  lying  idle  on  your  knees, 
And  worse  than  idle — like  Penelope's, 
Working  its  own  undoing! 

CELESTE  (picks  up  her  knitting)  :    Who  was  she*? 
Saints!    What  a  knot! — Who  was  Penelope? 
What  happened  to  her  knitting?    Tell  me,  Cloud ! 

CLOUD:    She  was  a  Queen;  she  wove  her  husband's 
shroud. 

CELESTE  (drops  the  knitting)* 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  CLOUD—  [Continued] 

His  shroud ! 

CLOUD  :  There,  there !   'Twas  only  an  excuse 

To  put  her  lovers  off,  a  wifely  ruse, 
Bidding  them  bide  till  it  was  finished,  she 
Each  night  the  web  unravelled  secretly. 

CELESTE:     He  came  home  safe4? 

CLOUD  :  If  I  remember  right, 

It  was  the  lovers  needed  shrouds  that  night! 
It  is  an  old,  old  tale.     I  heard  it  through 
A  Wind  whose  ancestor  it  was  that  blew 
Ulysses'  ship  across  the  purple  sea 
Back  to  his  people  and  Penelope. 
We  Clouds  pick  up  strange  tales,  as  far  and  wide 
And  to  and  fro  above  the  world  we  ride, 
Across  uncharted  seas,  upon  the  swell 
Of  viewless  waves  and  tides  invisible, 
Freighted  with  friendly  flood  or  forked  flame, 
Knowing  not  whither  bound  nor  whence  we  came ; 
Now  drifting  lonely,  now  a  company 
Of  pond'rous  galleons — 

CELESTE:  Oft-times  I  see 

A  Cloud,  as  by  some  playful  fancy  stirred, 
Take  likeness  of  a  monstrous  beast  or  bird 
Or  some  fantastic  fish,  as  though  'twere  clay 
Moulded  by  unseen  hands. 

CLOUD:  Then  tell  me,  pray, 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  CLOUD—  [Continued] 

What  I  resemble  now ! 
CELESTE:  I  scarcely  know. 

But  had  you  asked  a  little  while  ago, 

I  should  have  said  a  camel;  then  your  hump 

Dissolved,  and  you  became  a  gosling  plump, 

Downy  and  white  and  warm — 
CLOUD:  What!    Warm,  up  here4? 

Ten  thousand  feet  above  the  earth! 
CELESTE:  Oh  dear! 

What  am  I  thinking  of!     Of  course  I  know 

How  cold  it  is.     Pierre  has  told  me  so 

A  thousand  times. 
CLOUD  :  And  who  is  this  Pierre 

That  tells  you  all  the  secrets  of  the  air? 

How  came  he  to  such  frigid  heights  to  soar? 
CELESTE:    Pierre's  my — He  is  in  the  Flying  Corps. 
CLOUD:    Ah,  now  I  understand!    And  he's  away*? 
CELESTE:     He  left  at  dawn,  where  for  he  would 
not  say, 

Telling  me  only  'twas  a  bombing  raid 

Somewhere — My  God!   What's  that? 
CLOUD:  What,  little  maid? 

CELESTE    (^pointing)  :     That — over  there — beyond 

the  wooded  crest! 
CLOUD:    Only  a  skylark  dropping  to  her  nest; 

Her  mate  is  hov'ring  somewhere  near.    I  heard 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  CLOUD—  [Continued] 

His  tremulous  song  of  love — 
CELESTE  :  That  was  no  bird ! 

(Drops  upon  her  knees.) 

0  Mary!   Blessed  Mother!   Hear  my  prayer! 
That  one  that  fell — grant  it  was  not  Pierre ! 
Here  is  the  cross  my  mother  gave  me — I 
Will  burn  the  longest  candle  it  will  buy! 

CLOUD  :    Courage,  my  child !   Your  prayer  will  not 

be  vain! 

Who  guards  the  lark,  will  guide  your  lover's  plane. 
The  West  Wind's  calling.     I  must  go! — Hark! 

There 
He  sings  again!    Le  bon  Dieu  garde,  ma  cherel 

ii 

PIERRE  :    I  made  a  perfect  landing  over  there 

Behind  the  church — 
CELESTE:  The  Virgin  heard  my  prayer! 

Now  I  must  burn  the  candle  that  I  vowed — 
PIERRE:     Then  'twas  our  Blessed  Lady  sent  that 
Cloud 

That  saved  me  when  the  Boche  came  up  behind. 

1  made  a  lightning  turn,  only  to  find 

The  Boche  on  top  of  me.     It  seemed  a  kind 
Of  miracle  to  see  that  Cloud — I  swear 

[133] 


The  Laughing  Willow 


THE  CLOUD—  [Continued] 

A  moment  past  the  sky  was  everywhere 
As  clear  as  clear;  there  was  no  Cloud  in  sight. 
It  looked  to  me,  floating  there  calm  and  white. 
Like  a  great  mother  hen,  and  I  a  chick. 
She  seemed  to  call  me,  and  I  scurried  quick 
Behind  her  wing.  '  That  spoiled  the  Boche's  game, 
And  gave  me  time  to  turn  and  take  good  aim. 
I  emptied  my  last  drum,  and  saw  him  drop 
Ten  thousand  feet  in  flames — 

CELESTE  (shuddering}  :  Stop!  Pierre,  stop! 

Maybe  a  girl  is  waiting  for  him  too — 

PIERRE:    'Twas  either  him  or  me — 

CELESTE:  Thank  God,  not  you! 

PIERRE  (pointing  to  the  church)  :    Come,  let  us  burn 
the  candle  that  you  vowed. 

CELESTE-:    Two  candles! 

PIERRE:  Who's  the  other  for? 

CELESTE  :  The  Cloud ! 


FINIS 


[134] 


